


A Strange Birthday Surprise

by BeautifullyObsessed



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Doctor Strange (2016), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stephen Strange - Fandom
Genre: Birthday Party, Birthday Wishes, Friendship, Gen, Kamar-Taj, Magic, Matchmaking Cloak, New York Sanctum, Pining, Pre-Infinity War, romantic crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27531190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifullyObsessed/pseuds/BeautifullyObsessed
Summary: Marvel Comics establishes that Doctor Stephen Strange's birthday is November 18--so I hope to finish this in time for his special day! Also, this takes place pre-Infinity War, and is a sequel to my previous work 'A Strange Slice of the Big Apple'.
Relationships: Doctor Strange & Cloak of Levitation, Doctor Strange & Reader, Reader & Cloak of Levitation, Stephen Strange & Cloak of Levitation, Stephen Strange & Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Strange Slice of the Big Apple...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14455890) by [BeautifullyObsessed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifullyObsessed/pseuds/BeautifullyObsessed). 



> Marvel Comics establishes that Doctor Stephen Strange's birthday is November 18--so I hope to finish this in time for his special day! Also, this takes place pre-Infinity War, and is a sequel to my previous work 'A Strange Slice of the Big Apple'.

Cloak knew its Sorcerer well; knew him well enough to have a keen understanding of Stephen’s feelings about the upcoming milestone. Feelings that ran even deeper than Stephen himself realized. Oh, he _acted_ blasé about the matter—as though he had outgrown celebrating the year’s experiences and accomplishments, not to mention the spectacular success he’d had in his mastery of the Mystic Arts; the unqualified success which had eventually led to his appointment as Master of the New York Sanctum.

Having finally achieved the honest humility that would have suited him equally as a doctor, as it did now as a sorcerer in service to humanity, Stephen rarely allowed himself to dwell upon what he had once thought of as his glory days—the years he had been admired and celebrated as the best in his profession, had been sought after for high-profile speaking engagements and media interviews, had lived a fast, opulent lifestyle, while single-mindedly advancing the science of neurosurgery to spectacular heights. Days when he had never thought twice about throwing himself a self-indulgent birthday party, sparing no expense. Such memories left him with a strong sense of shame, as so many of his recollections of his selfish behavior in his old life.

Cloak understood it all, as well as Stephen’s sadness over his softer memories—especially those of the quiet birthday getaways he had spent with Christine, which he had come to realize too late, were the best birthdays of his life. But Christine had moved on—for the best, Stephen acknowledged, if only to himself—and he knew he could never return to those days. And for the most part, he didn’t want to—for he understood now what was most important in the grand scheme of things, and had accepted that his birthday was just an unnecessary distraction from the vital mission that was his now.

However, deep in his heart—deep and hidden from his consciousness—Stephen wished that someone, anyone, would just remember, and simply acknowledge that it was his birthday. Cloak—who knew the best of Stephen, and who had not only witnessed him sacrificing himself a thousand times over to save Earth from Dormammu and the Dark Dimension, but had also accompanied him on several dozen other forays against threats from throughout the multiverse—decided it would just have to find a way to see that unspoken wish fulfilled.

* * *

Of course, Cloak realized that this was a task far beyond its own physical capabilities, so that it would need the help of a human ally. It’s first thought had been to reach out to Christine, but Cloak summarily rejected that as an impossibility—even if she might be inclined to arrange for a birthday celebration despite having closed the door on their intimate past, Cloak couldn’t be seen zipping about the City to her hospital or apartment, out of the company of its Sorcerer. Such behavior could jeopardize the secrecy of the New York Sanctum, let alone that of the Mystic Brotherhood that served so selflessly in Earth’s defense. If Cloak were to find the help it needed it would have to be an initiate of the Mystic Arts, and in order to guarantee the best communication between Relic and Human, it should be someone with whom Cloak already shared an affinity.

Several months back, there had been an Adept who accompanied a group of younglings from Kamar-Taj on a tour of the New York Sanctum; Cloak had perceived right away that she held strong feelings of admiration for Stephen Strange. Beyond the typical hero-worship it often sensed among impressionable Novices and callow Adepts, this one’s attitude was colored by something more personal—a romantic “crush”, as humans referred to it. This one would be an ideal choice to assist with Cloak’s plan; it would only require a visit to Kamar-Taj for Cloak to reach out to her, and Strange was actually planning one quite soon. _Surely this was more than just a coincidence_ , Cloak decided; _surely the stars themselves had aligned enough to turn that plan into reality._


	2. Chapter 2

Full length mirrors were a rare commodity in Kamar-Taj, and were primarily utilized for magical purposes rather than just as a looking glass. Individual quarters were equipped with small wall mirrors for grooming purposes---so that you were unable to check how you looked in you new robes before you left your room for the day. But they fit as though custom made, and they felt damn good, so you trusted that you looked as fine as you felt.

_Masters robes at last!_ There had been a few times you had doubted that your path was truly meant to achieve them. But this week you had successfully completed the last of your required courses, had demonstrated your command of all the necessary spells, charms, incantations and potions, in addition to your well-honed skills in battle magic and martial arts---and had fulfilled all the practical tests of experience and performance as part of dozens of missions under the guidance of various masters.

Thus given your choice at last, you had selected Master’s robes of blue and tan. Though the blue was a darker shade than his own, making that selection was still your homage to the Master you had come to admire most (and on whom you maintained a secret crush)---Doctor Stephen Strange. The fact that he was due for a visit today for his regular consultation with other leading Masters of the Mystic Brotherhood was not lost on you; it seemed a happy coincidence that it was also the first day on which you would officially don the regalia of you newly awarded rank.

One last time, you checked your sash to make sure that the knotting lay properly, and that your sling ring hung securely in place, before heading out to the communal dining hall for breakfast. Though your friends and classmates were sure to offer their congratulations once they saw you in your new attire, you found yourself hoping above all that your path would somehow cross with that of the Master of the New York Sanctum. The sooner the better, so he would see for himself that you had attained that milestone rank.

* * *

Since your visit to the new York Sanctum as chaperone for a group of young novices on a field trip, you’d been back there on numerous occasions. All too briefly, as you smitten heart was concerned, but then that was never the purpose of those visits. You had relished every opportunity to interact with the brilliant Sanctum Master in residence, who had been as kind, as friendly, and as drolly self-deprecating to you as on that lovely spring day you had accompanied the children---even inquiring about the progress of your studies and offering the use of the Sanctum’s unique resources to broaden your knowledge.

Even better than that, though, Doctor Strange had asked for your assistance with a magical mission in late August, having been impressed by your rapport with and supervision of the younglings training in Kamar-Taj. An orphanage in a small city in Romania had been experiencing an epidemic of severe malaise among the children residing there, though the adults appeared to suffer no ill effects. Several of the orphans had lapsed into inexplicable comas, and after some investigation, local Sorcerers had concluded that a nest of psychic vampyres from a parallel dimension had discovered an ingress into Earth’s reality from it’s own, and were feasting at will upon the vulnerable children. In retrospect, the Mystic Brotherhood eventually determined that those beings were very likely the true source of the Dracula legend. 

Strange had headed the team dispatched to Romania, which had done a thorough search to root out any of the malignant creatures hiding in the area, forced them back into their own dimension and then sealed shut the breach that had allowed them entry to Earth. Your task had been not only to assist in the main mission, but to then remain behind a few weeks to keep an eye on the seal to be sure it remained intact, while aiding the Healers with the children as their health eventually improved. Your favorite part of the job, however, consisted of daily, in-person updates to Strange himself, until the Masters were able to conclude that the area had been rendered permanently safe from further threat of attack.

Today, you barely heard the conversations around you and only managed to eat half of your breakfast, what with the butterflies fluttering in your stomach in anticipation of seeing him again. If your timing was right, you’d be casually crossing the courtyard just as the dashing Master of the New York Sanctum was set to arrive.

And sure enough, there he as chatting in the midst of a small group of Masters, including Wong, who now doubled as the compound Master Librarian while also assisting Doctor Strange in Greenwich Village whenever the need arose. You straightened your shoulders, took a depth breath, and began to stride on a parallel course to where Strange stood. _Please look my way_ , you were thinking, _just a glance enough to see me in these robes_...

With a surprising bit of good fortune, Stephen actually did look your way, flashing you that dear, amused smile---which _never_ failed to make your heart sigh with longing---and then giving a quick little wave. You couldn’t help the smile which you beamed back, fingers crossed that he had taken note of you new robes.

What you hadn’t expected was a sudden flash of red as the Cloak of Levitation flew as swift and straight as an arrow to envelope you in a warm, soft embrace **...**


	3. Chapter 3

Befuddled by the sudden, comfy---albeit entirely unexpected---embrace, you found yourself immediately bewitched by the scent embedded in the thick, soft material. _You smell just like...him_ , you sighed inwardly, and you could swear that you heard the faint whisper of a reply in your mind--- _I knooooowww_. You blinked in disbelief, but allowed yourself the treat of breathing deeply---closing your eyes while delighting in the fragrance of Strange’s aftershave, masculine and woodsy with notes of bright, clean citrus, overlaying the sage and frankincense he used while meditating.

Cloak also bore traces of scent that often lingered in the aftermath of magic; the more powerful the spell or the sorcerer, the stronger was the scent left behind---so that widely experienced Masters were sometimes able to identify who had cast the spell by the fragrance left in the aftermath. You were imagining that this would be very close to how it would feel to be held close in Stephen Strange’s arms---and you could feel Cloak heartily agree. _Yeeeeesssss_. A wave of its genuine affection washed over you, and you sent the same feeling back to this unique and wonderful sentient being, understanding that it perceived the secret feelings you’d been harboring for the Master of the New York Sanctum...and that Cloak approved. 

“I always knew there’d come a day when Cloak would leave me for someone much prettier.” Strange sounded amused, his voice smooth and deep, thrumming through you as it always did. This was the voice you often wished would sound in your dreams at night. His nearly iridescent eyes were filled with warmth and mirth, while his lopsided smiled seemed purely for you. “And I see congratulations are in order, Y/N.” He leaned closer, letting his voice drop into a confidential tone, “I’m guessing that Cloak must have noticed that too.”

“I...I...” you stammered, discombobulated by how very near he was; near enough for you to number the smattering of pale freckles upon his handsome face. “I, uh...thank you, Doctor Strange.”

“Oh, no need to be so formal, Y/N. It’s Stephen, now that you’re a Master too,” he winked and grinned, and somehow that made you relax just a bit. “Please?”

“Stephen,” you breathed, “Of course.” Cloak rippled its approval.

He was studying you in silence, but all thought had left your mind, lost as you felt in the wisdom and humor reflected in his remarkable eyes. “That color suits you, too,” he continued, “Have you decided on a specialty yet?”

_Saaaayyyy somethinnnng_ , came Cloak’s quiet instruction, enough to nudge an answer from your lips. “No, um...not yet, anyway. It’s just my first official day as a Master.”

“Ah...well...,” the fine crinkles beside his riveting eyes reflected his continued good humor, “No rush then. Whatever discipline you choose will be fortunate to have you.”

Your cheeks colored at his compliment, your heart thrilled to hear it. You forced yourself to hold his gaze instead of looking away, which was your natural inclination. “Thank you, Stephen. You’re very kind to say so.”

He nodded and gave a small shrug, and then bit his lip, looking slightly perplexed. “So...um...dunno what’s up with Cloak right now, but it appears it wants to stick with you a while. I guess it’ll find me when it’s ready---if it hasn’t decided to throw me over for a new Master,” he teased.

“Ohhhh...I’m sure it’s just being...friendly. Like it was when I visited your Sanctum last spring,” you offered, “It feels...playful. And kind of...hmmm...excited about something. Does that make sense?”

Stephen nodded again, though he looked even more baffled. “It does...for the most part. But, yeah---that’s how it works with us. Cloak is surprisingly empathetic; it reads my feelings and anticipates my needs. Especially when we’re in a precarious situation. And that communication goes both ways.”

The both of you were surprised when Cloak flicked what looked like a thumb’s up. Stephen shook his head and took a deep sigh, conceding to his Relic’s silent persuasion, “Alright, alright...have it your way. But keep it low key, okay? It’s N’s/Y first day as a Master, so please just give her an easy test ride---there’s no need to show off by taking her on a trip around the world.” He smiled at you reassuringly, “Unless you feel like visiting the French Riviera or Bora Bora.”

“That sounds pretty tempting, Stephen,” you chuckled, “But as I’ve got a pretty full schedule today, I’d have to regretfully decline.” Cloak gave you a quick, understanding squeeze. _We’ve...much to...doooooooo_ , it promised.

Stephen inclined his head toward the knot of Masters waiting for him across the courtyard, “Speaking of, I’ve got a few things to attend to as well.” He addressed Cloak directly again, “I should be done here in a few hours. If N/Y hasn’t completely stolen your loyalty by then, come find me before I head back to New York?”

Cloak snapped its version of a salute, and began to tug you to move along. Stephen was grinning to see you experience something very familiar to him. “Again, you have my sincere congratulations, Master N/Y. You’ve got a lot to be proud of.” As soon as he turned away, Cloak was dragging you towards the dormitory wing of the compound.

* * *

“I’m sorry...what?” Cloak was sending you a series of images, but in its excitement, far too rapidly for you to make any sense out of them. You could feel its frustration mounting. “Slow down,” you suggested. “Give me a chance to ask some yes or no questions.”

Cloak patted your cheek, and you closed your eyes to concentrate. A picture of a bunch of balloons popped into your head. “Okay, balloons. Are they _for_ someone?”

_Yeeeeesssss..._

Now you saw a tall, chocolate-frosted cake in your mind’s eye. “Cake. Alright...so with balloons, that makes me think of a celebration. Is this...is this about a party of some sort?”

Cloak nodded around you so vigorously that you almost felt dizzy.

“A birthday party?”

_Yup yup yuuuuuuuup..._ Astonishingly, you could _feel_ it pop that final ‘p’, in sure imitation of its Master.

“For who?” In answer, you felt what must have been Cloak’s sentience riffling through your mind. Gently searching for a very particular memory. Suddenly, you saw Stephen’s face as you leaned in to brush a solitary kiss upon his cheek. That sweet little kiss you had given him in appreciation for how kindly he’d been when you’d visited his Sanctum with those young Novices last spring. The very same kiss that Cloak had urged you into, helping you to overcome your shyness about being so forward towards your crush. “Ooooohhhh! For Stephen.”

_Bingoooooo!_

“Is it _today_?” you enquired, wishing that you had known about it already, so you might have given the Master of the New York Sanctum birthday greetings.

Cloak fluttered around you. _Nooooooo...but sooooooon._

“Alright...alright...when?”

You saw a calendar hanging on a wall, open to November, with the 18th circled in red. “Got it! So you want me to wish him a happy birthday in ten days?”

_Yesssssss...but nooooooo..._

Suddenly you saw yourself at nine years old, blowing out the candles on your birthday cake, surround by your best friends, all wearing party hats. “Wait...what...you want me to have a party for Stephen?”

You could feel Cloak’s relief at being fully understood. _Yesssssss_... 

“Okay...okay.” Your mind immediately whirled with possibilities. “I can do this. I just need to give it some thought.”

Now you could feel Cloak straining to communicate, and understood shortly thereafter that is was attempting its most complicated message yet. _Muuuust...muuuust be...surpriiiiiiise!_

“Got it,” you grinned, beginning to imagine the happy light that would come to Stephen’s eyes when he came upon such a wonderful surprise. “I absolutely can do this. But you’re going to need to find a way to get him out of the Sanctum for a couple hours on the 18th so I can get things set up. Do you think you can manage that?” Cloak hugged you warmly and gave you a small, celebratory twirl.

You already had a couple of unique ideas that would make the party extra special for your hero and unrepentant crush. Though part of you was already thinking...hoping...wishing, that perhaps he might be pleased enough by the end of the party to sweep you into his arms and show you his appreciation with some sweet kisses of his own.


	4. Chapter 4

When it comes to the world of magic and mysticism, even the most meticulously planned events can meet with failure. Though you knew this to be true, you couldn’t help feeling disappointed and downright glum. The birthday banner still hung in the darkened dining hall, with the balloons and streamers left behind as the guests had departed in small groups once it had been clear that the guest of honor was going to be a no-show.

The young Novices you’d brought along to Strange’s Sanctum had been disappointed too; you had taught them to sing _Happy_ _Birthday_ , first in English and then in Nepali, but then they never got the chance. You had cut the cake and dished out the ice cream for them as a consolation prize, setting aside a generous sized slice for Stephen---not even sure when he might return from what was supposed to have been a cakewalk of a mission.

And of course, you had begun to fret a bit for Stephen’s safety. Cloak was supposed to make sure they returned hours ago. Although Strange was the most brilliant, gifted Sorcerer that had arisen in the Mystic Brotherhood since The Ancient One herself, he was still a mortal man---and even Cloak, for all its dedication and loyalty, could not guarantee his well-being when confronted with unknown, staggering odds. You wished you had the Gift of Sight, so you might catch of glimpse of how your Hero and his stalwart companion fared---while part of you wondered if you should gather the supplies needed should you decide on attempting to scry out his location.

Perhaps Strange was in need of help, trapped in mystical, even nefarious, entanglements. If so, you were more than willing to hazard yourself to come to his aid. Conjuring a simple hourglass, you vowed to wait for only half the contents to spill into its bottom half, and if he hadn’t returned to his Sanctum by then you would set out to search for him.

* * *

Cloak had finally managed to pull its beloved, battle-singed and weary Sorcerer from the clean-up that had followed a nasty and completely unexpected confrontation. The pair had been inadvertently caught in the middle of an intense tribal rivalry between two villages on the outskirts of the Amazon Rainforest. In a bid to settle the conflict, both village Shamans had reached out to Kamar-Taj, requesting the aid of a Master to help them negotiate the peace, and Stephen had been tapped to adjudicate the meeting.

Things had gone awry about twenty minutes into the assembly of the tribe Elders, Shamans, and Strange, when a group of about two dozen villagers (from both tribes) who had been taken under the influence of a Dark Magician---one who thrived upon chaos of any kind---had begun hurling bottled curses at them, which were unleashed when their containers shattered. With the help of the Shamans, Stephen had set up protective wards and then summoned further assistance from Kathmandu. The coterie of Sorcerers had freed the entranced villagers of the Dark Magician’s enchantment, eventually leaving Stephen to root out and vanquish the evil doer. However, that had proven far more difficult than he had anticipated, for the villain had left scores of booby traps---both magical and mortal---to protect his lair. In the end, Stephen had needed several of his fellow Sorcerers to overcome and then banish the Dark Magician to a pocket dimension.

Once the portal back to New York had closed behind them, Cloak began to pull Stephen to the dining hall, knowing that his surprise party awaited him there. “Hold up,” Stephen had growled, “All I want right now is a long, hot shower. I can grab something to eat later.” Cloak only tugged at him all the harder, while making sure it blocked him from receiving any of its thoughts and emotions, in order to keep the secret. The completion of the plan it had hatched weeks ago was only a trip down two flights of stairs away.

Cloak could feel its Sorcerer’s agitation growing with each dragged footstep, and at the second floor landing Stephen decided that he had enough, trying his best to shrug his Relic off. “Goddammit, I’m in no mood for this. Let me go!” He continued to struggle heroically, even as they arrived at the entrance to the dining hall.

If Cloak had an actual head, it surely would have scratched it, dumbfounded that the room was dark and empty. That was a strong enough reaction that Stephen _did_ feel it, moving him to pose the question, “Just what were you expecting?” In the darkness, he wasn’t able to discern the decorations that had been meant for his celebration.

Cloak gave no answer, but immediately flitted away, zipping along the hallway in search of answers---eventually locating you sitting dejectedly in the kitchen. You blinked in surprise and relief, certain that its presence meant that Stephen Strange was home and safe. Cloak flashed its version of two thumbs up, then rushed off to collect Stephen.

Wasting no time, you banished the hourglass and snapped your fingers to light the few candles you had placed on the slice of birthday cake you’d saved for your Hero (and unrepentant crush). Your heart was racing with happy anticipation while you considered if you should try to sing the birthday song to him by yourself. Any notes you might have uttered fell short when you saw Stephen’s battle worn state as Cloak ushered him into the room.

His brow remained furrowed for a moment, until he took in the full picture, with you and the lit candles enough to explain Cloak’s seemingly bizarre behavior. Cloak itself had withdrawn to the hall just outside the kitchen, content that its mission been accomplished---if not in the measure it had hoped for, at least in the spirit of offering Stephen birthday wishes.

Stephen’s expression had softened once he realized what you’d done for him, and he gifted you the easy smile you adored. “You two were in cahoots, weren’t you?” You nodded, momentarily tongue-tied at the dashing figure he cut---the soot of magical battle still coloring his cheekbones and robes---combined with the growing light of amusement in his compelling eyes. “How did you know?”

“It was Cloak’s idea…Stephen,” you managed, still feeling the novelty of calling him by his given name, as he came to stand across the table from you, “It wanted to be sure you weren’t forgotten on your birthday.” You lowered your eyes, made almost too shy by the warm appraisal in his gaze to reveal your part of the plan. “It asked for my help…”

“That day at Kamar-Taj,” he marveled, grinning.

“Uh…yes. And I’ve been more than happy to do it…” You dared to meet his eyes again, which immediately stirred those familiar butterflies in your tummy.

“Hmmmmm,” he mused, “Well I’ll be damned…”

You found your fingers itching to set right the errant curl draped across his forehead, and bit you lip at the pleasant shiver that ran up your spine from the way he was watching you. “Once I understood what Cloak wanted for you, I set it all up…I even asked Master Wong to find an easy task to keep you out of the Sanctum while I decorated and greeted the guests,” you explained. “It was _supposed_ to be easy, I swear. I’m guessing something went wrong…”

“A bit,” he nodded, and you guessed he was trying to play down the severity of what had actually happened, “But nothing I couldn’t handle. Pretty close to routine, in fact.”

“Really,” you scoffed, liking him even more for attempting to spare your feelings, “You look like you’ve been in the thick of it…Stephen.”

He shook his head, waving off your concern, “Nah---just another day in the life…”

“Well, somehow I believe you’re being too modest,” you countered, “But, be that as it may, Happy Birthday, Doctor Strange, for, uh…for what it’s worth.”

“Thank you, N/Y. That means a lot, coming from you this way.” He took a seat at the end of the table, closer to where you stood.

“There were guests, of course. Cake and ice cream.” You felt yourself begin to relax, and moved your chair to the corner of the table to sit next to him. “I had some of the younglings here too; they were very excited for the chance to sing for you.”

“Then I’m doubly sorry to have missed it,” he murmured, the warmth of his voice thrumming through you as it always did when he was this close. “But at least there’s still cake and candles and…and _you_ to help me celebrate. Quietly.” Stephen laid his hand atop yours, the contact making your skin tingle. Making you wish he might do more. So much more.

You spotted Cloak pop its collar just around the door jamb, as though checking up on you. It seemed to nod slowly, knowingly even, and then it flew away.

“So…um…maybe you should blow out the candles before they burn all the way down?”

“Yes…I guess I should.” Stephen twirled his forefinger and the overhead light dimmed by half. “Mood lighting,” he smiled, as you watched the candlelight dance in his eyes. He twirled his finger again and the small clock radio on the kitchen counter came to life. Your jaw dropped when [_If You Were_](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dpo2ahzuziEw&t=YTAwYTJhY2QyZmFmY2MxMDVhMTgwZjg3NGRkMjIzZTc1MjNmYWU0ZSxhNmZiMWZlZDgyMTc3ZjYxNzYzZDQ1ZmJjOWE2YjIwOTRmNjBkYWFh&ts=1607196573) [_Here_](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dpo2ahzuziEw&t=YTAwYTJhY2QyZmFmY2MxMDVhMTgwZjg3NGRkMjIzZTc1MjNmYWU0ZSxhNmZiMWZlZDgyMTc3ZjYxNzYzZDQ1ZmJjOWE2YjIwOTRmNjBkYWFh&ts=1607196573) began playing.

“Hey, isn’t this…” you started, and then took his cheeky grin for an affirmative answer. You wondered if the low light was still enough for him to see that you were blushing at that reference to that old movie from the 80’s which featured this song.

When he bent close to the cake, he paused a moment, long enough for you to remind him, “Be sure to make a wish.”

“Oh, I will, N/Y. Count on it.” Stephen puckered his beautiful, tempting lips, closed his eyes, and blew out the flames with one decisive breath.

Your voice went low and husky without you really meaning it to, “Happy Birthday, Stephen. And many, many happy returns.”

That drew his eyes back to yours. An air of expectancy filled the little space between you two, and you were very aware of the moment that his rather molten gaze dropped to your lips, while the Thompson Twins sang on. … _but just like the rain, I’ll always be falling, yeah…only to rise and fall again_ …

Stunned and amazed by what seemed to be happening, you were barely able to whisper, “What did you wish for?”

He chuckled softly, “Well now, if I tell you, it won’t come true---will it?”

“I…I dunno…” He had laced his fingers through yours and his face was as nearly as close as it could get.

“Maybe…maybe the best wishes come true all on their own,” you suggested, “If we wish hard enough.”

“Or if such a wish is shared by two, don’t you think?” He had parted his lips slightly, waiting upon your reply, and the need you felt to taste them was undeniable. All you could do was nod slightly, whetting you own lips in anticipation. Stephen wore that little quirk of a smile, one of a hundred things about him you had memorized and adored, as he tilted your chin up with the lightest touch, whispering, “Happy Birthday to me, after all…”

He began with the gentlest brush of his lips to yours, so alike some of your fantasies of him that you briefly wondered if you were dreaming yet again. Then he plumped his lush bottom lip against yours, and even in this you could feel him smile, while he delivered several quiet kisses more, lingering longer with each one until you parted your lips to allow him to deepen the connection.

You were trembling---had always known that you _would_ if this moment ever came to pass---and Stephen cupped your face in his hands to steady you. His strong, powerful hands so warm against your skin, as he stroked his thumbs along your cheekbones. He tasted of spearmint gum, of magic, and of long-delayed satisfaction. He tasted like he’d been wanting to kiss you as badly as you had wanted to kiss him for many months now, and of patience truly being worth the wait. His kiss was the heaven you had been waiting for most of your adult life.

When he finally parted from your lips, Stephen kept your face sweetly cradled, unwilling to be more than a breath apart from you. “Cloak was right again,” he muttered, “Cloak is almost always right.”

“Oh?” You asked him breathlessly, “That I’ve had a crush on you for, like…forever?”

“No,” he breathed against your tender, hungry lips, “That I should kiss you at the soonest opportunity. And for as long as humanly possible.”

“That’s one brilliant Relic you have there, Stephen.” You landed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, “And I think we need to follow its advice to the letter…”

“Mmmmmmmm,” he rumbled, more than ready to do just that, “And birthday kisses are just the beginning…” 

This time his lips became more urgent, and so deliciously demanding that you would always remember them as... _swoon worthy_. An old fashioned expression, surely, but utterly true in this case. Stephen was sweeping you off your feet, though you remained solidly in place, making you melt under the silken play of his tongue against yours, leaving you to hope he liked the little sounds of pleasure you were making for him. When he drifted his lips across your cheek and then your jaw you couldn’t help but moan your ecstasy, certain you would remember this interlude, this night, as the most glorious of your life. 

Stephen gave over a satisfied moan when you finally braved running your fingers through his hair, and that really was one of the most beautiful sounds you’d heard in your life. “Don’t you dare stop now, N/Y. I’ve been needing this for far too long.” 

You giggled when his whiskers tickled the hollow of your throat, and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin in response. Grown braver than ever from his scrumptious attentions, you asked a rather cheeky question amid the pants and moans he drew from you. “So tell me please, Stephen---has your birthday wish come true?”

You felt the smooth dark chocolate of his pleased rumble fill your chest, while happiness filled your heart. “Hmmmmmm...in part, yes...”

“And,” you asked him breathlessly, “What more can there be?”

Stephen pulled back enough to meet your eyes, his own dark with unspoken desires, “As I said before, if I say it out loud it might not come true.” He lifted a single brow, his eyes flaring as he promised you, “But my birthday isn’t over for a few hours more, so let’s see what else we can make come true, shall we?”

 _Anything you want_ _you beautiful man_ , you were thinking as he dived in for a passion filled kiss, _anything and everything will absolutely do_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song mentioned is from the closing scene of the movie 'Sixteen Candles', a film about a special birthday that almost went completely unnoticed. Click on this link to hear it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=po2ahzuziEw


End file.
